


Violet Hill

by AmongstTheStars



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Broken Bones, Character Death, Everyone Needs A Hug, Flashbacks, Gen, Guilt, How Do I Tag, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Peter Parker, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Murder, Not Canon Compliant, Ouch, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Spider-Man: Homecoming Spoilers, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, jk i'm not sorry at all, yeet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-21 16:49:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16580315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmongstTheStars/pseuds/AmongstTheStars
Summary: This day really did a one-eighty, didn't it?And now he’s going to die here, alone, cold and broken.





	Violet Hill

Jitters take over his body the second he enters the warehouse, but he pushes that to the back of his mind without a second thought. Now is no time to be getting nervous, he can't let his fear show when facing this guy. He already knows he's merely a teenage boy, no point in giving him even more of a reason to think he's just a joke in a mask, right? Right. Especially when kitted out in his old suit and looking like an idiot.

Glancing around, Peter Parker takes in every aspect of the building. It's pretty hard not to. Bright lights, so much silence his footsteps echo almost painfully loud around the empty space, he can't help but hyper fixate on every small detail.  _Stupid enhanced senses,_  he thinks. Stupid anxiety too, if he's honest. He notices the large pillars holding the roof up above him, he sees the signs painted onto the wall, but he, most of all, notices the man standing before him with his back to him, brown leather jacket contrasting against the white of the large room. The sight of him freaks him out a little, bringing up the memory of being dragged hundreds of feet up into the air and dropped into the freezing lake. God, he swears he can still feel the water surrounding him. Almost drowning him.

Then he remembers Tony Stark pulling him back out (or what he thought was Mr. Stark and just turned out to be an empty suit). He doesn't know why, but he feels some kind of embarrassment. Whoops.

He kicks all that aside, shaking his head and clearing his throat just like he clears his mind.  _Focus on the present, Parker_. And sure enough he does when Toomes turns to face him, eyebrows raised in surprise despite the obvious lack of it shown in his eyes. He knew Peter was coming, because why would he leave it alone after he told him to? He's Spider-Man and Toomes is just a 'stinky villain', as Peter described him to Ned not even a day prior.

“Hey!” Peter shouts, and it takes a surprising amount of courage to get it out, but it makes Toomes turn around to face him properly. Some spike of nervous energy lights up his nerve endings immediately, but he suppresses the urge to physically flinch. Man, this guy’s really done a number on him, huh? “Surprised?”

**_You forget any of this ever happened._ **

“Oh, hey Pete. Didn’t hear you come in,” he lies, placing his hands on the workbench that was now behind him. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards slightly, but not in a smile. More like some sort of grimace crossed with a dose of false pity.

Peter scoffs and shakes his head as if to say _unbelievable,_ narrowing his eyes at the criminal through his homemade mask. If only he had his proper suit. This would be so much easier, but Mr. Stark just had to take it off him when he was actually getting somewhere with all this, didn’t he? Ugh. At least he has his web shooters.

Speaking of, he quickly makes sure to web Toomes’ hand to the table in case he tries anything funky. He doesn’t want him getting away again, and he sure as hell doesn’t want whatever that bird suit is to come to the rescue. Always got to be sure, he thinks.

“It’s over, I’ve got you.” As intimidating as he tries to sound, the shake in his voice is still apparent to both himself and Toomes.

“Y’know, I gotta tell you, Pete. I really admire your grit. I see why Liz likes you,” he lifts his head in a little nod as if he’s making some kind of point, “I really do. When I first saw you, I thought “really?” but now I get it.”

**_And don’t you ever, ever, interfere with my business again._ **

“How could you do this to her?” Peter feels some kind of anger rising up inside him as he listens to the man in front of him. What does he mean he gets it? What the hell does he mean he admires his grit? Who the hell said he could admire him, _aspire_ to be anything like him at all? It’s hilarious, he thinks, that someone like him could even think something like that about him. He’s a hero, the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, and Toomes is just another villain out there to make the world a worse place than it already is. Circling the city and creating more and more danger and fear as he goes. Guess that’s why he’s called the Vulture, then? The thought of it all forces a laugh of hatred out of him as he speaks.

He hears Toomes tut and sees him shake his head, and he swears he almost doesn’t even give him a chance to start his sentence. Does he think this is just some pathetic little feud? Frankly, Peter doesn’t even want to know what he thinks this is.

“To her? I’m not doing anything to her, Pete, I’m doing this for her.” He sighs. “Pete… You’re young. I don’t expect you to understand how the world works.”

**_Because if you do…_ **

The sincerity in his voice makes Peter want to punch him round the face, or break his arm, or something worse. He never saw himself as a violent person, but this guy is on a whole other level of infuriating. He doesn’t do any of that though, he just crosses his arms to avoid doing something stupid as he shifts slightly on the spot in discomfort. “But I understand that selling weapons to criminals is wrong.”

He doesn’t want to be here.

Toomes actually laughs at that, looking up at the ceiling as he does as if he’s tired of having to explain himself. “How do you think your buddy Stark paid for that tower? Or any of his little toys?” He glances at Peter just in time to see him shuffle uncomfortably. He obviously didn’t like to think of Mr. Stark that way, or hear anyone speak of him like that. So, he continues.

“Those people, Pete, those people up there… The rich and the powerful, they do whatever they want. Guys like us, like you and me,” he gestures between the two of them as if they were anything alike, as if they were friends, and it just pisses Peter off even more. “They don’t care about us.”

It takes all his willpower for Peter not to interrupt Toomes’ little monologue, not to slap some sense into him and say _what the hell are you on about? Mr. Stark is nothing like that, you idiot!_

God, the audacity of some people.

“We build their roads, we fight all their wars, but they don’t care about us. We have to pick up after them. We have to eat their table scraps. That’s how it is.” Toomes glances around as if he’s expecting something, and Peter wonders what it is, until he meets his eyes and holds the stare. “I know you know what I’m talking about, Peter.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” It comes out a little weaker than intended, but something about Toomes calling him by his full name put him a little on edge. Coming from him, it sounds so… Vicious.

Suddenly, he hears it. It’s distant, but his enhanced hearing manages to pick it up immediately. Part of him thanks Tony for taking his suit, because he never would’ve noticed with the sound dampeners that were installed into the advanced suit. Another part of him just curses him more and more. He knows what’s coming.

Panic takes over him, but he forces himself to keep it cool. _C’mon, Spider-Man._

“Because I want you to understand.”

Bullshit. He’s an idiot, how did he not see this? He’s seen the movies, read the stories. He’s seen how the villain, every single time, goes on and on about their story, their excuses, and it all just turns out to be some kind of diversion. This is just a movie, isn’t it? Toomes knew he was going to come and find him, made sure to drag him out somewhere no one would even go looking for him. God, how could he be so stupid? _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

**_I’ll kill you._ **

“And… I needed a little time to get her airborne.” There it is. The truth. Probably the only truth he’s even said to Peter all fucking day.  
  
Just then, the suit comes crashing in through the solid concrete wall of the warehouse, causing Spider-Man to flinch and jump despite the fact that he sensed it coming before he was even given a hint. He spins around at some speed that most likely challenged the speed of light itself, a tingling at the back of his neck telling him it was heading straight for him. And sure enough it was, fear instantly consuming every part of his body. He moves at the last second, barely feeling the edge of a metallic feather tear through the fabric of his makeshift Spider-Man hoodie.

His breathing catches in his throat as he feels it, and it suddenly hits him that he could actually die here.

He watches as the suit smashes through one of the stone pillars holding up the roof above him, debris going everywhere. Toomes moves back in the corner of his eye, holding his hand to his ear as he speaks to someone. Peter notices his hand is free, and he figures the suit had something to do with it like back at the ferry incident. He doesn’t hear what he’s saying, he’s too consumed with whatever the hell is going on right now to pay attention.

He shoots a web to the ceiling above him as the wings come back around, heading his way all over again. Using barely a fraction of his strength, he quickly hoists himself up and flings himself over it, eyes trained on the suit as it passes under him at some incredible speed. Jesus Christ, he’s only fifteen. All this stress can’t be good for him.

“I’m sorry, Pete,” he hears Toomes shout to him over the noise of concrete hitting concrete as he sticks to the wall, thankful for his odd adhesive abilities.

“What are you sorry for? It hasn’t even hit me yet!” He feels some sort of pride as he says it, his mind laughing as he thinks that it turns out he doesn’t need Mr. Stark’s suit after all. Maybe he is something without it.

What’s he getting all scared for?

He focuses back on the task at hand, ears slowly adjusting to the almost deafeningly loud environment. Until Toomes speaks up again, and he almost loses his grip.

“True… But I wasn’t really trying to.”

Then he realises it. Twice in the span of not even five minutes, he catches himself being an idiot. Only one concrete pillar remains, and he watches as the suit goes through it like it’s made of nothing. The pillars, the buildings only support, all gone. Fuck.

Toomes is suddenly armoured, his mask on and those piercing green eyes stare right into Peter’s soul. He swears they’re going to give him nightmares, because all he can think about when he seems them is that god damn lake. The freezing cold water.

Jesus, he almost died.

He wants to shout when he sees him take off, wants to swing after him and take his ass straight to Mr. Stark and explain everything. About how he was right, and this is an Avengers level threat. He really does want to, but he doesn’t have time until the entire building comes collapsing down around him. If he wasn’t some genetically enhanced human, he can guarantee that he would’ve gone into cardiac arrest just from the sheer terror of it all.

He barely even makes it two feet while trying to escape before he feels tonnes of concrete and stone pin him to the floor, rubble pressing harshly into his ribs as it happens. He feels them break, he can practically hear it as they do, and he can’t even begin to describe how incredibly painful it is. Even with his healing abilities, he’s not sure he’ll be able to fully recover from the amount of damage he can feel going on right now.

Suddenly he can’t breathe. Whether it’s his broken ribs or the panic attack he can feel washing over him, he’s gasping for air either way, squeezing his eyes shut as he does so. He can’t breathe, he can’t think, he can’t move or see or anything and everything is just so overwhelming, he can’t handle it.

He struggles to take his mask off, grasping and the red material and pulling it off harshly as he tries to get some air into his lungs (which he’s worried are barely even functioning anymore). He tries his hardest to move; every time he does, he notices the remains of the warehouse weighing down on him even more. He moves his leg and feels something break the skin, drawing blood and it’s pushed deep into his skin. If he wasn’t already crying, he surely is now. He doesn’t know, he can’t even begin to focus on it.

His breaths come in short gasps, sounding just as small and weak as he feels.

“Hello! Hello?” He surprises himself with how loudly he manages to scream for help, but his only reply is the silence. He tries again, voice breaking. His throat hurts. It feels like someone’s forced him to swallow barbed wire and then ripped it back out again.

He moves again, using all his strength to try and push the concrete off of him, but he just can’t.

“Please, I’m down here! Please- I can’t-“ He doesn’t know how he was going to finish that. He just _can’t_. He can’t do anything.

It’s no wonder Tony took the suit from him. He’s just a kid. He’s not even sixteen. Sure, he fought Captain America, he fought along side Iron Man and Vision and War Machine and the Avengers, but Tony was probably right. They were probably going easy on him.

He’s not a hero.

He’s just some kid.

**_I’ll kill you… and everyone you love._ **

Oh God, what about May? What about Ned, and Tony, and even MJ? What’s going to happen to them? He thinks about all the possible endings and he wants to be sick. This is all his fault. All of it.

Just like it was with Ben, and now it’s all going to end up the exact same way all over again.

He panics, unable to stop the tears now. One second, he couldn’t breathe and now he’s hyperventilating, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to block out all those horrible thoughts he deals with every night. He cries so hard his head hurts, and he’s surprised he’s still conscious.

He lets himself fall slack, unable to keep his head up any longer. He figures he’s probably bleeding from multiple places, and that the blood running down his temple isn’t the worst wound he has. He’s most likely bleeding internally, too.

He stares at the reflection of himself in a puddle merely inches from his face, stares at the mess he’s become in not even a few hours. Wow, this day really did a one eighty, didn’t it? He whimpers at the sight of himself.

He’s a mess.

And now he’s going to die here, alone, cold and broken.

“ _If you’re nothing without the suit, you shouldn’t have it_ ,” he hears Mr. Stark’s voice say in the back of his head and it only makes it worse. Well here he lies, pure evidence that he is in fact _nothing_. Absolutely nothing. Nothing to Tony Stark, to Queens, to New York City.

It feels like there’s weights pulling down at his eyelids and he doesn’t even try to fight it at this point, he just lets them drift shut as he slowly loses the sense of what it is to be himself. He can almost feel his life pouring out of him, mixed in with the blood as it leaves his body slow but steady.

So, this is what it feels like?

He feels numb. He thought it would be more painful than this. It was at the start, but now he just doesn’t feel anything apart from how the world sways around him. Almost as if it’s rocking him to sleep, like he’s a baby in a crib. Like his mother used to.

His mother… Maybe he’ll get to see her?

He barely hears the sound of Iron Man’s repulsors as they approach, and he only registers it after he’s landed and crouching by his side, saying his name and hoping to get some response.

“Kid? Hey, c’mon Peter, say something.” The desperation in his voice is undeniable, and it breaks Peter’s heart to hear it. He didn’t want this.

_“-And if you died… I feel like that’s on me,” Peter hadn’t missed how Tony almost didn’t manage to get that last bit out, whispering it as if it was painful to say aloud. As if the thought of it was already too much._

The kid finally lifts his head an inch after some shaking of his shoulder, and Tony sighs out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding. “Oh, thank God. Kid, you can’t do that to me.” The dull pain in his chest subsides slightly, but his heart is still racing too fast for his body’s liking. Damn heart condition, now really isn’t a great time.

Peter lifts his gaze slightly, catching a glimpse of the dusty red and gold of the Iron Man suit through the blurred vision and shifting black dots. He tries to speak and realises there’s no point, so he gives up. One look, however, is all Tony seems to need.

He sees the dullness in Peter’s eyes, how the life is slowly draining from them. _Oh Jesus, no. This can’t be happening. He’s only a kid. “_ FRIDAY, what’re his vitals?” The panic lacing his voice is loud and clear. The man usually known for keeping his emotions concealed from everyone simply can’t hide his fear for this kid’s life.

“Pulse is weak, Boss. Five broken ribs, a broken leg and a few fractured bones in his left arm. A collapsed lung and some internal bleeding too, and it seems he has a concussion. Urgent medical attention is required,” comes the response, and right now Tony just wishes he had JARVIS. He would’ve assured him Peter would be okay.

“Holy shit.” He doesn’t want to believe the facts.

Peter must’ve heard FRIDAY’s words, because he’s crying again. It’s like he can’t muster the energy to sob as he just weeps quietly to himself, shoulders shaking slightly as he does. Tony realises he’s pinned still and figures Peter can’t move, so he quickly pushes all the concrete and rubble off the kid. He tries his best to ignore the groans of pain as he does.

“Don’t move, alright kid?”

“Mr. Stark- I’m-“ He cuts himself off with a cough and then he’s gasping for air all over again. Speaking really wasn’t a good idea, he should’ve listened to himself.

“No, no, shh. Don’t say anything.” Tony crouches down again beside his kid, practicing his breathing exercises as he shoves the panic aside to tend to the boy. Not now, anxiety.

FRIDAY’s voice causes him to flinch. “Boss, his vitals are dropping rapidly. I’m afraid he might not make it.” The callous sound of her voice fails to ease him at all, and the panic strikes up a million times worse.

_I’m afraid he might not make it._

He suddenly realises the tears spilling from his eyes, blurring his vision. He looks down at the broken boy in front of him and he can’t believe someone so young had to go through something so awful. He doesn’t want to believe it.

If he’d just fucking listened to him. If he’d just gone and checked this whole thing out, sorted out what happened in DC and got this over and done with, none of this would’ve happened.

His kid wouldn’t be dying right now, scared and so, so young.

He takes his hand and tries to ignore how weak his grip is. Tries to ignore how small his hands are, screaming at him how he’s just a fucking kid. A fifteen-year-old boy.

He fails to ignore how Peter loses his grip completely, body going limp as tears slip from lifeless eyes.

**_I’ll kill you._ **

He doesn’t know how long he’s been here, but he doesn’t even feel human anymore. All his tears are gone, all his rage is spent, and all his emotions are just… _Empty_.

He looks down and he sees red. He looks at his hands and he sees red. Everything he sees is red.

“That’s what happens when you fuck with me and my kid.” It doesn’t sound like his own voice, and it’s probably not Tony speaking. This? This is what happens when you take the Tony Stark out of Iron Man.

But hey, at least he got the Vulture situation under control.

**Author's Note:**

> i have no idea why i did this. i thought of it suddenly. blame Coldplay and their brilliant music (i listened to violet hill writing this and i cried a bit ok. listen to that great song and cry with me gdi)
> 
> rip stan lee tho. without him the mcu wouldn't exist and neither would i tbh lbr


End file.
